


Friendship

by thegirlwiththemouseyhair



Series: Boundaries Verse [3]
Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medical, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Canon Disabled Character, Canon Gay Character, Coming Out, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-07
Updated: 2014-07-07
Packaged: 2018-02-07 19:38:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1911246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegirlwiththemouseyhair/pseuds/thegirlwiththemouseyhair
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to Boundaries. Vignette and a slice of life in Thomas and 'Ted' Courtenay's developing relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Friendship

**Author's Note:**

> As the summary states, this is in my Boundaries verse, set after Boundaries (which will become obvious in the first sentence of the piece but anyway). I have definitely been planning more vignettes in this verse.

Thomas is terrible at friendship, but he _tries_ , for Ted Courtenay. When Ted opens up to him – when he needs someone to talk to about his depression or his family, or when he worries that he can’t broach certain subjects with his therapist – Thomas will rack his brain for anything useful to say. He knows he’s rubbish at it. It’s hard, when you’ve hardly had any friends in your life, and when all you really want is to pull the man beside you into your arms and kiss and touch him until he forgets all his pain.

But Thomas can’t do that. Sometimes he thinks Ted is flirting with him, but their friendship is so new (for all its terrible intensity) that he can’t be sure. There must be some way to find out if Thomas has a chance or not. There must be some form, some record at the hospital that would speak to his friend’s history with women or men or both. It would be terribly dodgy; he could lose his job and he would have hated getting outed like that himself – but he’d keep whatever he found quiet, wouldn’t he? No one else needs to know like he does. _And I’d make such a good partner_ , he thinks, staring at Ted’s face.

“You’re sure you’ve nowhere else to be?” Ted asks. He’s sprawled on the sofa across from where Thomas is sitting. Ace is out of harness and lying by Ted’s feet. Just a few minutes ago, Ted had started a game of fetch with her, and the wagging of her tail had knocked several papers off the coffee table. Ted, apparently, isn’t overly tidy. The flat’s ordinary – not bad by most people’s standards – but just disorganized enough for him to mislay things. Losing something, and being unable to see to find it, always sets Ted on edge. Thomas has already helped him through a few of those small crises. He itches to help Ted reorganize the whole place, to make sure that will never happen again, but hasn’t yet offered, in case it seems patronizing.

“No,” Thomas says. “Go on.”

Ted sighs and reaches down to stroke Ace’s glossy fur.

“I just hate it when Jack offers things like that,” he says. “Like I _need_ to be – pushed aside for my own good. My mother always says he means well, and _he_ always says…” He stops abruptly. “What’s the use? I shouldn’t bore you.”

“It’s fine,” Thomas says. “You can say whatever you like to me. Only – you shouldn’t _just_ tell me. You should speak up for yourself.”

“I try,” Ted answers, turning his face away.

Thomas shakes his head, though he knows the gesture is lost on his friend.

“No, I mean, really stand up for yourself. If someone says some offensive bullshit, or if you’ve told them the same thing over and over, you’ve got to say it, clearly, and not worry about making a row.”  

He watches Ted’s reaction. The other man furrows his brow. Thomas hesitates. Perhaps he shouldn’t lecture him – but he goes on just the same.

“I know you’re polite and kind and everything,” he adds. “But don’t let people walk all over you.”

Ted gives another sigh as he drags himself into a sitting position.

“I trust you know that from personal experience?” His voice is even, but his scarred eyes narrow with real interest.

Thomas thinks back to secondary school. He doesn’t quite shudder, but the memories make him clench his fist without realizing it.

“Yeah,” he replies, “I do. I know what it’s like to be pushed around.”

Ted puts his hand to his mouth, silently, and bites at his thumbnail.

“I don’t want to pry,” he says, after a moment.

“You’re not,” Thomas replies. He swallows. He hasn’t actually come out to Ted – not officially – and he’s not sure if his friend realizes or suspects, but he supposes he might as well try now.

“I know it’s not the same as what you’ve had to deal with, but I had a hell of a time at school,” he begins.

Ted’s frown deepens.

“Why? What happened?”

“People didn’t like that I was an uppity little shirt lifter,” Thomas says quickly. He remembers the day Micky Green and some friends threw him down the west wing staircase at school and kicked at him afterwards, shattering the bones of three fingers. No one did anything, of course. Thomas’s parents were furious, but the school hushed the whole thing up and let it go on and on.

Ted opens his mouth, then closes it again and continues biting his nail before speaking. Thomas tenses, but the other man sounds as gentle as ever. _We’d be an odd sort of couple_ , Thomas thinks. _If we_ were _a couple. Not that I’m expecting it to happen._

“I’m so sorry,” Ted says. Then his face flushes. “That you were treated badly, I mean –”

Thomas laughs.

“Of course,” he says. “I know what you meant.”

He watches Ted’s face intently, hoping he’ll say _something_ that would let Thomas know…

“I’m sorry,” Ted says again. “I guess you learned to stand up for yourself. I just wish I could.”

_Damn_ , Thomas thinks. He doesn’t begrudge Ted a chance to talk, after all the shit he’s been through, but he hates anticlimax. _Guess there’s still the hospital records…_

“You’ll be fine,” he says, as kindly as he can, because he’s not like Ted, and this sort of thing doesn’t come naturally to him. He hesitates, then reaches for Ted’s hand. He almost stops himself before they touch – just in case it’ll seem like a come on, now – but risks it anyway.

Ted returns his grip twice as strong. Thomas lets out a breath in relief.

“Thanks,” Ted murmurs.

“Don’t mention it,” Thomas says. “Really.”

They sit in companionable silence, which is a little trying for Thomas, but so, _so_ worth it, too.


End file.
